


Smoke and Sun

by desreelee123



Series: Home [1]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dehydration, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Introspection, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desreelee123/pseuds/desreelee123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nux wakes up in the desert and makes his way back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Sun

I

            Nux wakes up with a throbbing pain in his skull and sand in his mouth. His skin feels like it’s on fire and his tongue is akin to sandpaper behind his chapped lips. He isn’t sure how long he’s been lying on the ground or whatever the hell happened after he barricaded the passage with his truck and annihilated Ricuts Erectus, the son of the, also annihilated thanks to Imperator Furiosa, Immortan Joe.

            All he knows is that he has to get back to the Citadel and more importantly, her.

            And so he gets up from the desert floor with a little difficulty as his legs seem to have lost some of her their function and walks in the direction of the Citadel while silently hoping that it's the right direction and that no one from Bullet Farm or Gas Town will swing by while he’s walking and take him prisoner—or worse, as a slave. (He’s practically sure that that is going to be one hell of a shitty experience.)

            Her eyes flash like a homing beacon in his mind’s eye and he knows that even though she’s not with him right now, she is with him in spirit and soul. Valhalla be damned.

            She has left him a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.

            (He takes her crumbs with absolute enthusiasm, despite the thirst and heat. She is a goddess and he can’t wait to worship her once he’s home.)

II

            The night is as cold as the day is hot but Nux doesn’t dare pause or seek reprieve from his journey. He doesn’t want to waste any time because there’s so little of it here in the desert. It is just as precious as a resource as food and water.

            And additionally, Nux has been known to be very determined in his endeavors.

            He clutches his form to himself and tries not to faint from fatigue. (He really needs to rest.) Whoever originally made the War Boys not wear shirts is one hell of an asshole, he thinks. It is quite a stupid thing to make people do under the circumstances. (But then again, that can be easily attributed to the lack of cloth in circulation in the Citadel. Immortan and his family and Wives usually take the majority of the cloth, along with all the other resources, that there is hardly anything left for them or the Wretched.)

            He hopes that when he returns, it is Furiosa who has won and not the countless retainers Joe has kept by his side throughout his reign.

            (He hopes that when he returns, everything in the Citadel is already changing for the better and his sacrifice has not been for nothing.)

            It occurs to him that he has never really thought about things this deeply until now.

           (It also occurs to him that he’s never really thought about anything until now.)

            _Whokilledtheworldwhokilledtheworldwhokilledtheworld_

            Maybe the extreme weather is getting to him.

            Or, more likely, it’s just common sense.

III

            The former War Boy tries to visualize his red-haired goddess behind his eyes when he closes them. He imagines himself tracing his calloused fingers through the smooth contours of her face, capturing her smile with his hungry eyes. His daydreams of her provide an effective momentary reprieve from the harsh conditions that constantly surround him without having to actually pause his journey. (From the blisters and the dryness and the sweat.) She is the only good thing he has ever known in his life. (She is the only thing that stands out from the blood and guzzoline that has been his life. She is the most precious and beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on.)

            That is because she is not a thing.

            She is a thoroughly exquisite person, on the inside and outside.

IV

            His dreams reek of smoke and heat and exhaust. For a moment after he wakes up from his latest dream, he thinks he’s seeing the silhouette of Rictus alongside his father, Immortan Joe, sneering down at him. Their very beings drip of mockery for him. Spite is running through their veins like blood.

            “Fucking traitor scum. Trained him and fed him and this is what he gives to us as gratitude,” he does not know who says those words. He does not care.

            The next moment, he’s standing outside the wrought-iron gates of Valhalla. He is a hero and there are thousands of voices screaming his name in reverence. There is water, water, water everywhere, flowing from the fountains, the springs, the mountains. There is the distinct scent of good food that he hasn’t gotten a taste of in his whole life wafting through his nostrils. Shimmering white light shines all around and over him and he knows he should feel happy. This is what he has been waiting for in his whole life.

            And yet, strangely, he feels incomplete. There is an empty feeling in his gut instead of exaltation.

            There is _someone_ missing.

            By the next beat, he is falling through a black chasm until he lands on a lumpy, worn-out mattress with a jolt. The room he is in is far from grand, quite ordinary so to speak. The frigid desert wind is no longer biting against his skin.

            And there is this…indescribable feeling deep in his stomach. The emptiness is no longer there. There is only warmth.

            A word comes to his mind, contentment.

            He lets out a chuckle.

            Nux doesn’t need to turn around to know she is there.

V

            Nux sees a flicker in the distance and panic instantly strikes him, deep and roiling in his gut. Fierce and unyielding in intensity. He scrambles in the sand and attempts to hide himself. Wind is blowing against his face and thirst and hunger is threatening to overwhelm him.

            The desert beetles are not nearly enough to feed his hunger. They usually never are.

            The sound of motor engines permeate his hearing and he squeezes his eyes shut, hopes that those are not Bullet Farmers or the Gas Town bandits that are most likely going to take him prisoner or kill him once they get a glimpse of him.

            _Fuckinghellfuckinghellfuckinghellfuckinghell_

The engines suddenly seem too close for comfort, rumbling and roaring like a lion. Nux forces himself to stand still in the hope that they will go away.

            Abruptly, the engines start speeding in another direction. The sounds of motor recede in volume and he finally lets out a heavy exhale. It is miraculous. (Or as miraculous as things can get in this sand-filled wasteland.)

VI

            He really doesn’t know how he’s managed to stay alive…or sane for this long a time. The harsh conditions of the Wasteland can easily obliterate the healthiest man around in only a short amount of time.

            The former War Boy daydreams of water and mattresses as he walks on the sand. Blisters already cover half his face and he is teetering on the precipice of life and death, of sanity and insanity.

            But every now and then, he glimpses a flash of red and suddenly, he feels more alive than he did a few moments before.

            Maybe he is already mad. (Madder than is normal.)

VII

            One day, he sees the vision, a mirage, of a pair of familiar, rusted, wrought iron gates in the horizon along with surrounding walls with similar degrees of rust and decay. He pinches himself to make sure that he is not dreaming. Nux is momentarily in shock before his senses finally kick in and there is a jolt of happiness that course through his being.

            He sprints, slipping and falling in the sand. His heart is pumping and his blood is hot. Excitement. Apprehension. Success. Tension.

            His emotions are on overdrive.

            He races to the gates. He knows with certainty that every step he takes takes him closer to the lady with fiery hair of his dreams.

            He can’t wait to finally feel her skin beneath his fingers for real once more, catch her sweet scent as she breathes life unto him. He thanks anyone who is listening for this second chance. (Because he really fucking deserves it...) His pulse is skipping and his heart is hammering against his chest.

            _“…are now War Boys…will serve Immortan joe and his cause…die valiantly…carry you to the gates of Valhalla…”_

_“…not his fault!”_

_A knife is slicing through his skin…painful as it breaks nerves and layers of skin…_

_“Get up!” the trainer yells as he cradles his bleeding arm, shrinking and afraid. The other boys are sneering at him with disdain. “No food for you today! We don’t tolerate shrinking violets around here!”_

_“Who killed the world?” a girl with hair the color of rust asks as he topples to the ground._

_“I love you.”_

VIII

            A band of pale-skinned boys (They are not War Boys anymore, they told him, just boys.) greets him at the gates. They take note of his chapped lips and blistered skin and overall form with astonishment. They know from the dryness of his skin and the reds around his eyes that he’s been wandering around in the sand for days but thankfully, they don’t ask him much questions about it. Just the expected, “What happened to you?” “You’re Nux, right?”

            The Wretched, looking much less wretched, appraise him with a veiled reverence. They must know, then, of his sacrifice. Nux isn’t sure if he really wants them to though.

            They bring him to Furiosa first, who is in the gardens (There are gardens now.) inspecting the crops and plants. She regards him with a nod. If she is surprised or shocked about his survival, she does not show it. The former Wives, on the other hand Capable included, are less discrete with their emotions as their faces automatically fold into a mixture of awe and bewilderment the moment they see him.

            “You’re alive!” Capable abruptly drops a basket made from leaves and vines and clambers onto him after she gets over the initial shock, smiling and happy. She encases him with her arms and holds on as tightly as she can without letting go. It is as if she’s afraid he’ll be swept away by a single blow of the desert wind.

            He smiles against her hair, which smells of herbs and her.

            “You’re alive,” she whispers this time as tears streak down her face and land on his sunburnt shoulder.

            “Please don’t cry,” he croaks out hoarsely as he pries her away from him. “Please don’t cry.”

            She raises a dainty hand to her face and wipes away the droplets.

            “Promise me you won’t ever leave me again.”

            “I promise.”

            This time, it is Nux who pulls her close. He places his forehead against hers and they just breathe each other’s scent, not really caring about the other people staring at them to whom Furiosa barks at to get back to work.

            In that single moment, they are happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fanfic! Hope you guys enjoyed it.


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